Melvin Watkins is a good man but not a terribly good coach, but that's OK. He is what he is, and people in the business esteem him for it. But now, by saying the things he's starting to say, he's become this: a good man, still not a terribly good coach, and an embarrassment to himself.

Here's the deal: Watkins, Missouri's interim coach since the resignation of Quin Snyder, is starting to lobby for the position on a permanent basis.

Talk about a guy not understanding who he is.

Watkins is the perfect lead assistant -- ethical, savvy, solid with recruits -- but not a head coach. He proved that at Texas A&M, where he went 60-112 in six years. That's 10 wins per season. Aggies replacement Billy Gillispie has gone 39-17 in two years. That's 20 wins per season. Big difference.

Watkins won at Charlotte, but competitors realized the real coach on that bench was assistant (and now head coach) Bobby Lutz. After Charlotte once upset mighty Cincinnati, UC coach Bobby Huggins walked off the court pointing at Lutz and snarling to an assistant, "That's the (bleep) who's coaching that team!"

It happens. San Diego State is on the verge of its first conference championship since 1978. This would be SDSU coach Steve Fisher's first conference title, in any conference, ever. No one believes Fisher has morphed into a great X-and-O coach. Someone on his bench -- my guess is Brian Dutcher -- is the (bleep) who's coaching that team.

And so it was with Watkins. After his Lutz-less Texas A&M years, everyone understands that now. Everyone but Watkins. Here's what he told two Missouri papers for today's editions:

"I know better than anyone what needs to happen here in terms of the players we need to get in with what we've got returning," Watkins said. "I'm going to have the upper hand on anyone in terms of trying to get this thing turned around and get it back in the right direction quicker than anyone that's out there. That's my opinion."

And yours alone.

And now, a word about Texas A&M.

Aggies coach Billy Gillispie mounted his soapbox Saturday, after defeating Nebraska, and said people like me are wrong when we forecast three NCAA Tournament bids for the Big 12. He didn't call me out by name. He didn't call any of us out by name. But he was talking about a whole host of us when he told the Houston Chronicle:

"There are too many people out there talking that haven't watched our (Big 12) teams play. They weren't in this arena today and they weren't in a lot of different arenas, they just make assumptions based on stuff that's not factual."

Speaking only for me -- full disclosure: I've not seen Texas A&M in person, though I have seen Iowa State, Missouri, Oklahoma State, Texas and Kansas -- here's an assumption I've made on the Aggies:

They're a smoke-and-mirrors team. And no one should know that more than Gillispie.

He's the one who put together an awful non-conference schedule that assured the Aggies of two things: a great record entering league play, and almost no chance of an NCAA bid barring a 10-6 or 11-5 Big 12 mark.

Here are the teams Texas A&M played in the non-conference schedule: Mississippi Valley State, Tulane, Penn State, North Texas, Grambling, Savannah State, Auburn, Texas Southern, Northwestern State, Pacific.

Is the NCAA Tournament selection committee -- or am I -- supposed to give any credit to the Aggies for navigating that low-major schedule with a 10-1 record? Of course not.

The Aggies are 8-6 in league play, but their best wins are against similarly unimpressive Iowa State, Nebraska, Colorado and Oklahoma State. The Aggies have lost at home to Kansas and Oklahoma, and they get their final home game with a legitimate Big 12 powerhouse on Wednesday when Texas comes to town.

Beat Texas, and the Aggies will belong in the NCAA conversation. Lose to Texas, and they're an NIT team.

Don't blame people like me, Billy Gillispie. You're the one who concocted that schedule.

I know I'm hard on Colorado, but there's a reason: Someone has to be hard on Colorado. The Buffaloes aren't worthy -- yet -- of an NCAA bid despite objections to the contrary. With so many people spouting lies, someone has to say the truth. So fine. I'll do it.

And then there's 6-foot-6 Buffs sophomore Richard Roby. He's a very good college player. Good shooter, long body, decent athlete, great savvy. But he has been talking all season about the possibility of entering the 2006 NBA Draft, stoked by the media in Colorado who keep asking the stupid question.

(In the media's defense -- because I've been there, done that -- they have to ask the question. If Roby's giving stupid answers, they have to keep asking the stupid question.)

He was asked again this week, and here's what he said in today's editions of the Rocky Mountain News:

"It's definitely going to be a burden on my shoulders," Roby said of contemplating the 2006 NBA Draft. "That's one of my goals.. .. But if the situation is right, I probably would go."

Two things, Richard:

1. There's zero NBA burden on your shoulders, and that's because ...
2. The situation is not right.

Here's the truth, based on conversations I've had with NBA scouts: Roby is not a first-round pick. He is not close to being a first-round pick. Not close, Richard -- not close.

Roby is too soft, too inconsistent, too passive. He has a shot at playing in the NBA, but that shot is not in 2006. That shot might be in 2007, but only if he makes large improvement -- mostly in his head and in his heart -- between now and next summer.

Truth hurts. But it's still the truth.

Look here, Southern California. If you're going to be ethically suspect, go all out. Don't hide behind anonymous sources. If you're going to pursue the most notorious transcript in recent recruiting history, do it with your head held high. Do it and sneer. Don't do it and duck.

USC is ducking from the commitment by Davon Jefferson, whose academic apathy rivals that of Deion Sanders when Sanders was skipping school at Florida State.

Jefferson is one of the most physically gifted players in the national 2006 recruiting class. He's a 6-foot-8 wing who jumps over small buildings -- but never a library -- in a single bound. He could have the same impact on a college team next season that Brandon Rush has had this season at Kansas.

But about Jefferson's academics ...

They're nonexistent. He skipped so much school at Lynwood (Calif.) High that he couldn't get eligible this past season at UNLV. So he went to a prep school, Patterson in Lenoir, N.C., that is becoming known for producing great players with their Division I eligibility intact.

Not Jefferson. He skipped so much school there -- I got that information from a Patterson coach -- that he was booted from the team. Understand, if you're booted from a prep basketball program like Patterson, you're not academically indifferent. You're academically comatose.

It's not that Jefferson can't do the work. It's that he has never tried to do it. He now will try to graduate through correspondence courses -- literally, he's going to get his diploma in the mail -- and then present himself as an academically viable student-athlete.

So USC coach Tim Floyd offered a scholarship. That's the story as Jefferson understands it. He told Scout.com that he has committed to USC.

USC, through a source who probably looks and sounds exactly like Tim Floyd, told the Los Angeles Times that the school has not committed its final available scholarship to Jefferson.

That's Floyd covering his rear end. Too late, Tim. Your rear end is showing.

As for you, Davon Jefferson: Get your diploma, and then get your ass to junior college.

I like you, Craig Littlepage. I like how you talk, I like how you think, and I like how you're going to lead the 2006 NCAA Tournament selection committee.

OK, I do have one problem: Talk slow-er. You say too much, too fast. It's hard to keep up, even for a lickety-split typist such as myself.

Littlepage is the Virginia athletics director who is chairing the selection committee, and on Wednesday in his first conference call with the media, two enormous differences were apparent between Littlepage and his predecessor, Bob Bowlsby.

1. Littlepage is less of a stat geek and more of a pure basketball guy.

2. Littlepage never, not once, used the phrase "body of work."

Listen, I liked Bowlsby just fine, too. Listening to Bowlsby for the last two years, I got the impression that he would turn over every statistical rock to determine quantitatively and qualitatively which teams truly had produced the best bodies of work.

But Littlepage is a different cat. He's a former player, assistant and head coach. He's going to track the numbers, sure -- RPI, SOS, etc. -- but he's also going to call on his huge network of friends in the coaching community to ask simple questions: Which teams are good? Which teams aren't?

I like that. I don't want the RPI to tell Littlepage that Houston or Florida State has a shot at an NCAA Tournament bid. I want a coach -- an expert -- to tell him that less-impressive RPI teams like Notre Dame and Stanford are actually better where the game matters: on the court.

Carry on, Craig Littlepage. You have my full endorsement. Thrilling to no end, I know.

As a player, Amadou Ba doesn't matter. Not really. He plays only in blowouts, which means Michigan doesn't need him. So the 1 1/2-game suspension Ba must serve, from the standpoint of basketball, means nothing.

From the standpoint of principal, it means everything. And from that standpoint, the Big Ten screwed this one up badly.

Ba is the Wolverine who shoved a drunken Michigan State fan to the floor before Michigan's game Saturday at Michigan State. Video clearly shows Ba minding his own business, relaxing in the first row of the bleachers, when this drunken idiot wanders by, says something to Ba, then approaches Ba and puts his hands on Ba's outstretched leg.

Ba does what he does. He stands and shoves the creep to the floor.

The drunken idiot falls hard and -- probably because he's lacking sufficient motor skills -- he bangs his head on the floor. Luckily the idiot wasn't hurt badly. Maybe the blow to the head will knock some sense into him.

Too bad it didn't knock some sense into the Big Ten.

Fans are getting increasingly cocky, increasingly invasive, when it comes to their role in sporting events. Ba let this twerp know you can't go around touching players.

Ba doesn't deserve a suspension. He deserves a commendation.

If you like justice served with a side of irony, Missouri is the story for you.

After leaving basketball coach Quin Snyder to twist in the wind for nearly a year, Missouri AD Mike Alden now finds himself in a similar breeze.

It's beautiful, is what it is.

Alden's botched handling of Snyder's resignation/firing has resulted in two independent inquiries -- one triggered by the chancellor, another by the school president.

Snyder has said Alden sent a mutual friend to relay the news of his impending demise, and to give him resignation options. That's why, Snyder said, he resigned Feb. 10.

Not true, Alden said. He said the mutual friend, MU broadcaster Gary Link, was dispatched only to gauge Snyder's feelings.

Every time Alden opens his mouth, though, he makes his situation look worse. For example, on a local radio show this week, Alden admitted that he did ask Link to find out if Snyder "might want to step away." That's according to the Kansas City Star.

Later, Alden told the Star that Snyder entered this season knowing the parameters it would take to save his job.

"Top six in the league," Alden said, "and go to the NCAA Tournament."

Which means Alden is a complete idiot. After Missouri lost star underclassman Linas Kleiza to the 2005 NBA Draft, the Tigers had no shot at either goal. And that's not hindsight. Check out my column from Nov. 16.

Snyder should have been fired after the 2004-05 season. That was obvious.

Alden should be fired now. That, too, is obvious.

Reasonable people disagree about the Indiana job.

Not talking about me. For one thing, I'm not reasonable. For another, I'm not a coach.

But this weekend I did speak with two coaches whose names have been tossed around regarding the Indiana job. In both cases, we spoke off the record. They were brutally honest. And in brutal disagreement.

One coach says Indiana is a top-five job nationally. He mentioned Duke, North Carolina, Kentucky and Kansas. "Indiana might be fifth, but it's in the top five," this coach told me. "Indiana is a place you can go and win national championships."

One coach says Indiana isn't even the best job in the Big Ten. This coach says the Indiana job isn't as good as Michigan State or Ohio State. "The facilities are terrible, the salaries haven't been that good, and the fans are brutal," this coach told me. "It's a job that looks good because of Bob Knight, but that's it."

There you have it. Reasonable disagreement within the highest levels of the coaching fraternity.

Who are my sources? You'll never know. Inside joke, but coaches will get this: I know how to protect mine.

The NIT is about to become a good tournament. Again.

It hasn't been a good tournament for decades. It has, in fact, been a joke.

For years the NIT was run like the Olympics, with committee members being wined and dined and flattered by commissioners and athletics directors lobbying for invitations and/or early-round home games.

For years the NIT hasn't been a tournament but a rigged quiz show, with the bracket set up so a handful of marquee schools would have the best shot of reaching New York City.

For years, I'm telling you, the NIT has been a sham.

And now, it's not.

In one press release, set loose tonight, the NCAA has done more to restore the credibility of this once-proud tournament than previous NIT directors could have done in 20 years.

Among the highlights:

• Any team that wins its league's regular-season championship, but doesn't get an NCAA Tournament invitation, is guaranteed an NIT bid. That's fabulous. A successful team from a smaller league -- a team that knows how to win -- is going to have better chemistry, better confidence and better results than a mediocre team from a larger league.

• Teams no longer have to have a winning record to be eligible. That's going to be a rarely explored avenue, but it's nice to have the option.

• The field will be seeded, and when at all possible the higher seeds will be the host schools. No longer will home games be awarded to teams that offer the best possible gates. They will be awarded to teams that offer the best possible, you know, teams.

This is good stuff. The old NIT had precious few guidelines, including a roughly 60-word paragraph that described the entire selection process -- including important factors like "Cinderella teams" and well-known players. The old NIT sacrificed quality basketball for a shot at financial gain.

The new NIT, under the leadership of the NCAA, is more interested in the basketball than the bottom line. The new NIT has a plan. It has a clue. The new NIT just might work.

The Curse of Quin is now reaching out and infecting other schools, too.

Since Quin Snyder was fired/asked to be excused from the Missouri job, most of the coaches speculated as his successor have lost -- and lost badly.

Southern Illinois' Chris Lowery lost last night at Bradley, not an NCAA Tournament team.

Northern Iowa's Greg McDermott lost last night at Indiana State, not an NIT team.

Creighton's Dana Altman, the frontrunner says me, lost last night at Wichita State on a 3-pointer at the buzzer.

Even West Virginia's John Beilein lost last night, at Seton Hall, a team coming off a 42-point loss to Connecticut.

The only Missouri-related names who didn't lose last night were Bob Huggins and Rick Majerus. And I'm not so sure about Majerus.

Indiana coach Mike Davis has always been too vulnerable for his own good. It's an endearing quality in a human being, but it's not the best way to run a big-time basketball program. Big-time coaches exude untouchability. They're not wrong. You're wrong.

Davis has never hidden his vulnerability, dating to his first season as Bob Knight's replacement, when he wondered aloud if he could handle the job. Since then he's described himself as paranoid, as being afraid to answer the phone, of wondering what kind of reaction his name would get during pregame introductions. Most coaches pretend they don't know what's being written, what's being said. Not Davis. If you can't like a guy like that, you're not trying hard enough.

On Monday, Davis was at his most vulnerable. He essentially conceded that he isn't the right man for this job -- not because of who Mike Davis is, but because of who Mike Davis isn't.

"I just think Indiana needs to have one of their own (as coach)," Davis said Monday on a regular teleconference for Big Ten coaches. "They need to have someone that has played here, so they can embrace him. And they need that. I'm not upset about it, I'm not disappointed. I just think they need that."

That's vulnerability. It's touching. It's also a concession speech. Let the countdown begin.

You know me. Selfish, stingy, angry. So you know this is rare, but here goes: Good job, Washington Post.

The Post has been doing a series of articles on the seamy side of recruiting -- personal aside: every side of recruiting is seamy -- and came out this weekend with a strong effort on one of the most notorious prep schools anywhere, Lutheran Christian Academy in Philadelphia.

Most college coaches won't touch a kid from Philly Lutheran. It's not the kids, they tell me, but the school. Any list of prep schools thought to be grade-giving factories has to include Philly Lutheran, a bunch of college coaches tell me.

The Post went after Philly Lutheran hard, sending a couple of reporters to Philadelphia while having a couple more -- and a researcher -- working on it from Washington D.C. That's terrific.

As for any college coach who has had, does have, or will have a player on his roster from Philly Lutheran ... you deserve whatever scrutiny is coming your way.

Creativity is good, and the Dawg Pound -- the Washington student section at Hec Ed Pavilion -- was creative last night.

Then again, Southern California's Nick Young provided all the material. Right there off the top of his head.

Young's hair is, shall we say, unforgivable. It's all wrong for him. Young's already tall and angular at 6-foot-6, 200 pounds. And then he adds to that by growing the top of his hair long and tall, and keeping it short around the sides. It could be a Mohawk. It was hard to tell from press row Thursday night.

Whatever it was, the Dawg Pound had a field day with it. It was done in fun, and in good taste, but it was done -- and done big.

At one point, the Dawg Pound chanted "Steg-o-saurus" at Young as he shot free throws. Another trip to the foul line brought chants of "Side Show Bob, Sideshow Bob."

Who says education is faltering? At UW they have a wide range of interests, from the Mesozoic Era to The Simpsons.

Personally, I thought Young looked more like Wes Studi's artfully played bad guy, Magua, in The Last of the Mohicans.

Try to get this kind of commentary anywhere else. Just try.

The confluence of the Internet, hip-hop and basketball have swirled together in the saga of Mario Moore, the Vanderbilt point guard who, for the time being, is no longer a Vanderbilt point guard.

Moore, a slumping senior who is taking a temporary leave of absence for medical reasons -- thought to be more psychological than physical -- talked about his issues on his personal Web site.

Tennessean reporter Bryan Mullen found Moore's home page on www.myspace.com and got the lyrics to a song Moore wrote and recently posted called Tell Me.

"Tell me ... don't you know about me/It's more than what you see on the TV screen/It's more than what you read printed in black ink/I don't care what you people think."

And ...

"Tell me ... why I work so hard and at the end of the day/People question my heart/I swear I'm the same as I was from the start/But when you're down and out people try to tear you apart."

Not bad writing, actually. Considering his shrinking basketball statistics -- from 13.5 points and 3.8 assists as a junior to 6.3 ppg and 2.3 apg this season -- Moore might want to consider a career in the studio.

And as if it needed to be said: Aren't we all thrilled that he chose rap as his medium, and not country? He is in Nashville, after all.

Shocking: Missouri quit.

Really, did you think Missouri wouldn't quit at some point this season? The Tigers have taken and taken and taken, and they've finally expired. The rollover was complete last night at Baylor, which came in with a 1-7 record.

Baylor drubbed the Quitters 90-64. Missouri has lost six straight games, all by blowout, only one against a likely NCAA Tournament team. Nice.

Defense is effort, yes? Baylor shot 62.3 percent from the floor. Missouri gave no effort. Missouri quit.

Ricky Clemons. Carmento Floyd. Quin Snyder. Lane Odom. Jason Conley. Tony Harvey. Robert Whaley. Paige Laurie. Randy Pulley.

Enough is enough. Snyder is done. And so is his team.

The question is, how much money is Missouri willing to offer Dana Altman? He's the dream hire, but he's not leaving his sweet gig at Creighton unless Missouri ponies up some serious cash.

Otherwise, why go coach a bunch of quitters?

This is unbelievably inappropriate, but here it goes: embattled Kansas State coach Jim Wooldridge soon will become a dead man walking -- literally.

Wooldridge, who was presumably given this season to turn around his still-uncorrected program, will miss the Wildcats' game Wednesday against Iowa State to have surgery on a bulging disk in his neck.

The most likely procedure will involve taking a piece of bone from a cadaver -- a dead man (or woman) -- and grafting it into the problem area.

That, friends, is irony.

On a serious note, Wooldridge has been coaching in pain all season. He has shown more toughness than some of his players. Good luck, and get well soon.

And if you need any moving boxes, Quin Snyder might have some extras.

Not sure if parity is hurting college basketball, but it's sure hurting college basketball prognosticators. Me, for instance.

Have you tried to project the 2006 NCAA Tournament field yet? Try it, but give yourself plenty of time. After allowing for the one-bid leagues and then knocking out the clear at-large bids, somewhere between 55 and 60 bids will be spoken for.

After that, it's chaos. And not good chaos, like, How will I ever pick between deserving Wisconsin and deserving Maryland?

Bad chaos, as in, None of these teams deserve to get in. Oh, well. Maybe I'll pick Wisconsin or Maryland.

What college basketball needs is a whole bunch of upsets in conference tournaments. Someone other than Bucknell needs to win the Patriot League. Someone other than UW-Milwaukee needs to win the Horizon. And someone like, oh, Georgia needs to win the SEC.

Otherwise, you're going to see some of the worst at-large teams in NCAA Tournament history.

Forget expanding the field to 128. Can't we cut it back to 40?

Elite high school recruit Davon Jefferson is adrift again -- a player without a team, a student without a school.

That's not the sad part, though. Jefferson is what he is, which is to say, he's a no-discipline NBA dreamer who views schools as a necessary evil -- well, an evil -- on the way to his first big paycheck.

The time to mourn Jefferson has long passed. He signed with UNLV last year but didn't qualify and had to spend this year in prep school. That was sad. What has happened since? Not sad. He skipped classes at The Patterson (N.C.) School to the point where Patterson coach Chris Chaney cut him loose earlier this week.

The really sad part of the Jefferson saga -- the only sad point anymore -- is that there are still a number of elite colleges lining up to take him for next season. Jefferson apparently will attempt to graduate from high school via correspondence courses, a plan that has the words "NCAA red flag" written all over it.

And yet schools like Kansas, Georgetown, Southern California and Oklahoma State are silently rooting him on, hoping he gets his diploma and signs with them.

This is a problem. Jefferson has no business being in college. Not because he can't handle the work, but because he doesn't want to handle the work. He wants to be in the NBA, but the Gerald Green experiment failed, and Jefferson is a less-skilled version of Green. Which means he's not a 2006 first-round NBA Draft pick.

So Jefferson expects to go to college to polish his game. Fine. There are plenty of junior colleges that would love to take him.

As for any Division I school that signs him, expect wrath. From the NCAA. From your fans. And, if it matters, from me.

The next Dwyane Wade is here, and his name is Jamont Gordon.

You're not familiar with Jamont Gordon? Don't feel bad. He's playing for Mississippi State, which isn't going anywhere this season, not that Gordon is to blame for that. Only a freshman, Gordon is becoming a strong candidate for All-SEC honors.

Not SEC All-Freshman. All-SEC. The big team.

From there, it'll be a short leap to All-American as a sophomore, or junior at the latest. And then he'll be in the NBA with the player whose game bears the strongest resemblance to his: Dwyane Wade.

Like Wade, Gordon is a strong, physical, 6-foot-4 guard. Gordon weighs 225 pounds, and he probably needs to get down to 215 or 220 to maximize his quickness. He also needs to work on his jumper. Still, he does what Wade once did at Marquette. Which is to say, everything.

Gordon is averaging 13.6 points, 6.6 rebounds and 3.9 assists. He has flirted with a triple-double several times: 17, 10 and nine vs. Troy ... 11, nine and nine vs. Ole Miss ... and 17, seven and seven vs. Florida.

Here's what Gordon does: Because he's so big and strong and explosive, he grabs the defensive rebound. Because he's so skilled, he takes off on the fast break, leading it himself. And because he's so good, he either finishes himself or finds an open teammate.

Jamont Gordon. Pass it on -- but remember where you heard it first.

I've been thinking about something: Any team that navigates its regular season without a loss in conference play -- whether it's the Big Ten or the Big Sky -- deserves an automatic bid into the NCAA Tournament. That way, a team that was perfect for three months in league play wouldn't be punished for being imperfect for three days in the conference tournament.

Such a rule would be aimed at the little leagues, obviously, because an unbeaten team from the Big Ten is going to the NCAA Tournament whether it wins its league or not. Not so for teams from lower-level leagues. And this season there are a handful of teams on pace for such perfection, including Northern Arizona (Big Sky), UC Irvine (Big West), Delaware State (MEAC) and Bucknell (Patriot).

But after more thought, I've changed my mind. That rule would be a disaster.

Here's why:

For the sake of argument, let's say UC Irvine goes undefeated in Big West play in the regular season. With an automatic bid already in hand, UC Irvine would have motivation to not win its conference tournament, since getting two NCAA Tournament bids would be a great thing for the league -- and anything great for the Big West would generally be great for UC Irvine.

OK, let's take it one step farther. Let's assume UC Irvine still plays its hardest, tries to win the conference tournament, the league be damned. But the league itself knows that a second NCAA bid would mean additional exposure as well as the NCAA Tournament money that comes from such a bid.

Game officials are hired by the league. So do we really want the conference title to come down to a last-second play, a last-second call, that goes against UC Irvine?

Too many questions. Too much gray area. The heck with that rule.